The darkness around Kuro contracted.
Not physically — but perceptually, as if the entire ocean were turning its gaze toward him. The pressure sharpened to a blade-edge, scraping against the edges of his mind.
His declaration of rebellion still echoed in the water.
And the Abyss…
heard it.
The sigil burning beneath his skin pulsed once.
A single, resonant throb.
Immediately the currents reversed direction, spiraling downward like a vortex leading to nowhere. Sediment rose in trembling clouds. Stones rattled. Even distant creatures fled in instinctive terror, vanishing into the trenches.
Kuro felt it before he saw it.
A presence.
Small — smaller than the Warden.
Yet infinitely heavier.
Not a beast.
Not a lord.
Not a mind.
A response.
The water split.
Something crawled out of the trench's lip.
It resembled a jellyfish at first glance — translucent, bulbous, drifting gently. But Kuro sensed the wrongness instantly: its bell held no organs, no nerves, no mana channels. Instead, it was packed with symbols, etched like scars into its flesh, glowing faintly with pale blue light.
A messenger.
A fragment of the Abyss shaped into flesh.
Kuro's body stiffened in instinctive dread.
Then it spoke — without sound, without vibration, without form.
It simply appeared in his mind, bypassing all defenses.
> [Rebellion detected.]
[Identifying cause…]
[Will instability: 12%. Cognitive deviation: rising.]
Kuro recoiled mentally.
This thing wasn't alive.
It wasn't even a creature.
It was a diagnostic tool.
A probe.
Sent to assess him like an infection.
"No," Kuro snarled silently. "Get out of my head."
The jelly-thing glided closer.
Its tentacles — thin filaments of light — extended gently, almost tenderly, toward Kuro's mantle.
> [Direct scan required. Do not resist.]
[Resistance will cause structural damage.]
It didn't lie.
Kuro felt the pressure in the surrounding water intensify. The Abyss itself supported the probe. If he resisted, the ocean would push back.
He hesitated.
And that hesitation was all the messenger needed.
A filament touched him.
Agony.
Not physical — the pain wasn't in his flesh but in his identity.
It felt like fingers peeling back layers of his mind, examining each thought, each memory, each fragment of humanity he still clung to.
Atsuya's memories flooded upward.
His sister's voice.
The research vessel.
His final breath before death.
The probe twisted deeper.
> [Anomaly detected: Excess human residue.]
[Purging…]
"No!"
Kuro's tentacles snapped forward on reflex, striking the messenger.
His suckers tore into the jelly-flesh easily — too easily.
There was no resistance, no structure.
But the moment he touched it—
The probe ruptured.
Not like a creature dying.
Like a spell exploding.
A wave of psychic force detonated outward.
The water screamed.
Kuro was thrown back, crashing into the trench wall.
The sigil on his flesh ignited, flooding his nerves.
> [Violation acknowledged. Countermeasure deploying.]
Kuro looked up.
And froze.
The water above him was warping — twisting into a funnel of living shadow. From that darkness emerged shapes… dozens… then hundreds.
Small.
Fast.
Needle-thin.
Abyssal Remoras.
The Abyss's micro-drones.
Creatures bred to attach to rebels and devour them from the inside out.
They swarmed, circling him in a tightening spiral.
Kuro's inner voice growled.
"So this is what you send when someone refuses obedience."
The Abyss did not answer with words.
The swarm answered for it.
Needle-maws opened.
The ocean dimmed.
> [SUBJUGATION PROTOCOL: BEGIN.]
Kuro's eyes narrowed.
His chromatophores flared.
The sigil burned bright enough to paint the water red.
"If the Abyss wants to break me…"
His tentacles unfolded like blades.
"…then let it try."
The swarm descended.
And Kuro struck.